The Junkyard
by The Fish with no pen
Summary: Snippets and story fragments that didn't fit anywhere else. Range of verses, pairings, ratings, and themes ahead. You have been warned.
1. Chapter 1

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ Don't own don't sue

**Verse: **Filling the Ranks (G1)

**Rating: **K+

**Verse Summary:** The best kept secret of the the Autobots is how some of their own gained the red symbol.

* * *

It had been a bit of a shock when they first got the order. They were a unit for the front lines, not some little convoy unit that ran around delivering mail and supplies to different bases. Orders, however, were orders and so he gathered his small team and set out for the coordinates into the middle of nowhere.

The package however seemed to make up for the almost boring trip to the little black rock. Seeing Optimus Prime's weapon's specialist guarding two stasis locked and bound Decepticons through his entire team into a loop when Ironhide refused to answer any questions. Just gruff orders to get them on board and that they could not lose them or harm them in anyway from there to Iacon. A simple enough mission if confusing considering the 'items' they were to protect with their very sparks for the next few solar cycles. A task many did not look forward to since they were supposed to fight Decepticons not protect and ferry them around like they were a crate of energon.

Simplicity of the mission in ones cpu however was far from what really happened during that mad flight to Iacon, most of his team dead or seriously wounded as the two cons were bundled up and given to the awaiting science bots to some unknown place instead of the brig or interrogation rooms. Where he believed those two deserved to be in if he couldn't have them dead in a ditch somewhere for everything that happened.

The cold red optics of Prowl as he watched impassively as Switchback's men were gunned down would remain deep in his memory files alongside that flashing red optic band and off balance giggling of Red Alert for as long as he lived. Like a promise that those two Decepticons would pay for the lives lost for their sake.

By Primus or the Unmaker however, that promise was short lived as Switchback died in battle a mere orn before Optimus Prime chose a new second in command and security director by designations that would have had his energon tubes run cold at the implications of what he had help accomplish for the greater good.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** First Meetings (G1)

**Rating: **K

**Character(s)/Pairing(s): **Unknown Mech/Red Alert

* * *

He had expected a bit more of the neutral group when they had finally gotten past the suspicion and about eight or so turnarounds and trail switching. The few with him seeming distressed by the wariness and mistrust these neutrals were displaying towards them. Seeming to forget the red symbol did not make everyone think happy thoughts and invite them in for some energon goodies even if the neutral were letting them rest and get fixed in the little hole they called their own. A stunning feat of trust to those who knew how dangerous it was for a neutral group to give aide of any sort to either faction no matter how unbiased they were in who they helped, but lost on the younglings who couldn't see anyone not wanting to join the autobots.

Their gaping expressions at the run down look of what had probably been a military base at some point was funny he had to admit. Especially at how proud the neutrals acted about the place as they boasted about the repairs they had been doing on it and how no one had yet to get past their security despite several attempts. That had caught his attention as he had attempted a few times to get past the cameras and various firewalls that were too well constructed for a simple non-combatant of a neutral could come up with. Especially as no one with such knowledge had been left alive-Decepticons- or convinced into joining the cause-Autobots- within this city before it was razed to the ground by a Decepticon air strike.

"Red Alert should be down in a bit to look over you mechs. He just needed to patch up a small crack someone put into one of his firewalls for the cameras."

So the mastermind behind that system was designated Red Alert. What the slag was a medic doing mucking around with security equipment anyways? Or was it going to be a junior security bot mucking around as the closes thing to a medic these bots had?

"These are the ones that tried to take down my cameras?"

The voice wasn't commanding at all though he could hear the attempts at such in the annoyed tone. Which fit the little red and white mech that came grumbling into the room they had been brought to, as medical tools were brought out and put back into subspace during a methodical and mundane routine of welding and rewiring that he had witnessed in many medbays over the vorns of the war before. The quick work of the little mech barely giving him time to wonder how both factions missed grabbing this medic up during the demand for more medically trained bots in both armies, before blue optics stared into his at a very close range.

"One of your mechs told me it was you who kept messing with my security system earlier."

"That would be me!"

His men would never let him live down the next few moments as Red Alert just gave a slight hmm sound from vocalizer before one of his fist met with an unprepared faceplate. Even if he did vocally deny the claims he had been staring stupidly into the neutral's optics to have done anything about the punch even if he had time to react.


	3. Chapter 3

**Verse: **Blind

**Character(s)/Pairing(s): **Prowl and Red Alert

**Rating:** K

* * *

Prowl was very intimidating when he wanted to be, and that normally came about when he was behind on paperwork and none of the other commanding officers could be bothered to discipline the rowdier mechs on the base. Many mechs faced with the cold wrath and swift punishment details given out by the tactician always agreed it was the optics that seemed to make it worse. Overly sharp and bright as they seem to find every fault in you as Prowl lectured, even as they seem to not really see you during the lecture that Prowl was able to produce on the spot in his cpu. (As no one had been able to find any of the speeches Prowl gave on a data pad, not for a lack of trying by the Spec Ops and more daring mechs in the base.)

What also added to the intimidation, though few would admit to it outside of liquid courage being passed about, was how one so bogged down with planning, paperwork, and just plain running the base as the base commander was never seen actually doing paperwork. His desk meticulously neat and barren of datapads in need of him to look over, (The datapads on the desk neatly piled into the finish category) and everything neatly done and handed in exactly on time. It was completely impossible considering Prowl was also the one to personally handle every disciplinary action that happened on the base and be at each mission meeting to give his battle computer input for each plan and group.

It wasn't much of a wonder why he wasn't on the battlefield along side the rest of the base, and those who had stayed on base long enough would scrap anyone that tried to put him on the field for 'moral support' or whatever. Something that amused and touched Prowl when no one was around, even if he had to bite his glossa so as not to correct them on the assumption on why he did not go out on the field.

Red Alert just grumbled about idiot medics that would get ripped apart by Ratchet for allowing Prowl to avoid a thorough check up, and that somehow he was going to get the fragging tactician to get someone else to write his reports for him.

He was starting to hate being the only one that knew Prowl's optics didn't actually work.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Crush

**Rating: **K

* * *

Perceptor had found the incident fascinating for a brief moment, until one of his experiments had him focused away from it.

Wheeljack found it cute and amusing, even as he attempted to run interference and keep the rest of the gestalt from doing something drastic because of it.

Ratchet, deep down, found it amusing and a bit exasperating since most of the incidents of it happened in his medbay.

Red Alert was just oblivious and didn't understand why no one would explain why First Aid seemed to have made it some sort of mission to be the main one to take care of him when he entered the medbay, and the reason didn't need Ratchet's experience.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **Instinct

**Rating:** K

**Verse: **G1

* * *

No one could say how it had started, and the blame had been jockeyed back and forth for cycles. The story dying down for a bit until one of the new arrivals trickled in and made a comment about the surplus of rescue and civil service vehicles being used as altmodes amongst the autobots. Leading to snickers and muttering varying from embarrassed to enraged as one of the none 'official' altmode holder would warn the new bot to avoid such an altmode or be saddled with _The Instinct_.

Confused the new ones would either take the advice or not and it would fall into the back of their cpu as one of those mysteries of the original crew. Until one of the human vehicles blared sirens and flashed its lights and every autobot with a similar altmode would peel off after it unconsciously.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Security

**Rating: **K

**Universe: **2007 movie

* * *

Agent Simmons was grumbling again, not that was anything unusual in the cavernous halls of Hoover Dam. Especially not when his beloved Sector Seven was disbanded and it had taken a great deal of favors being called in and pride destroying begging to still be allowed to deal with the NBEs as they began to swarm onto earth. Causing security breeches and logistic nightmares for those who were trying to keep them all hidden and off the radar of the unfriendly NBEs without even a backwards thanks. Yes, Simmons had a reason to be grumbling insults under his breath as he shuffled through the thick stack of papers he had to go over due to another indiscrete landing and showy car mode the newest arrival had taken. None of them thinking about how hard it was to downplay so many rich people type cars ending up in the hands of low ranking soldiers and teenagers.

But, that was not his problem right now, no, he was being sent on vacation time for the next two weeks. So it was someone else's problem until he came back. Half the base would probably be destroyed halfway through, but that would just show how much he was needed here. And he was losing the battle in ignoring the loud ringing coming from his pocket until the notes finally hit a panicky staccato that told him who was on the other end.

-Agent Simmons, they're plotting something but I can't break cover! They're staring at _me!_-

He didn't even bother to answer or make an acknowledgement of the slightly mechanical voice that was talking in an exaggerated whisper about protocol and security holes, before hanging up, mid rant on how bad of an idea this all was. Only to get a few of the newly sanctioned workers to suddenly stare at him as he placed his papers and briefcase into the trunk of the dented and lack luster looking car that the small group had been eyeing.

"You know this would be a real beauty of a car if you fixed it up a bit."

"Where'd you find a car like this?"

"I don't have the time or resources to be fixing up a car past the ability to get me from here to home, and in a junkyard. Now move away from my car."

The group finally did, and Simmons half hoped it was due to his no nonsense glare instead of them just humoring him. Even as their comments about how no one appreciated classics anymore faded as he settled into the driver's seat and took off.

-Perhaps my altmode is still too conspicuous Agent Simmons. By bylaw 203-A as your guardian I can change such if it is needed.-

"You're fine N- Red Alert. Hell of a lot better then some of the others running around."

It was true and he relaxed a bit as an electronic equivelant of a snort came from the radio of the red and white Lamborghini that looked like it needed several coats of paint and about a fortune in repairs to be considered showy again. Both driver and transformer complaining about the lack of any sort of regard to security that the ones they were connected to had.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: **Slipping

**Rating: **K+

**Universe: **Filling the Ranks (G1)

* * *

It always felt like something was off in his cpu. Ratchet just said it was probably his glitch talking, though he wasn't so certain as he kept certain things to himself. Like how he felt as if his protoform didn't fit his armor like it should, or how he kept expecting to see dangerously sharp claws of a deep black instead of the harmless looking servos Prowl had. The whispery voices saying this was wrong and he should be hunting them, not helping as he watched and protected the rest of the autobots in his little security office. Like his world and feeling of safety was being tilted to a dangerous and sharp angle of incline that one day will tip too far and come tumbling end over end into something he both wanted yet feared.

The maddening way some of the Decepticons acted around him and Prowl on those oh so few times they were allowed on the battlefield didn't help. Nor the feeling of joy to be fighting he knew deep down even Prowl felt. Especially not when Soundwave looked at them and he could feel something slipping away in his cpu that he almost welcomed. The slight giddy feeling when Ratchet would suddenly freeze optics wide in some odd fear when he was fixing him or just giving a routine check up felt familiar, even as another portion of himself balked at the thought of their CMO being _afraid_, let alone afraid of glitchy little Red Alert.

Just his processors playing tricks on him of course. Until Prowl stopped suddenly in the middle of talking to him and just stared for a moment; as if seeing the security director for the first time. Blue optics for a small moment a very dark red before it passed and both went on as if nothing had happened. Even as they both felt that whispery voice in their mainframe.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** Medbay Musings

**Universe: **G1

**Rating:** K+

* * *

_It wasn't so much that he didn't see what was going on. It was just what it meant when it finally dawned on him. Those two never seemed as at ease as they were with each other. Even when they interacted with those considered the ones closes to them. Like they understood each other on a level the rest of the Ark couldn't comprehend, at least until he saw almost the same look in another mech's optics; though, luckily for his processors it never got as deep as it did between those two. Staying at just enough that the medic could see what he saw between the two brewing and understand, even as the medic seemed to miss the optics watching him with the same promise in them._

Amazing the things he noticed when he couldn't really leave the medbay. He had thought he had seen it all, but being laid up while the medic rebuilt most of his lower body from scratch he saw things that were hidden far too well once past the medbay doors. No wonder the medbot tried to keep the healthy mechs from flooding the place, and ruining what was probably the few chances had between very different mechs to breakdown and show a want for more then comradeship with one another.

He admitted that, if it wasn't for the war and the choices made on who became part of this crew, most of them would never had met and gotten a chance to even think of there being a chance. Though most of them had subtle down to an art form in how they acted, like the two who also were subjected to a long stay on medical berths. They acted completely normal, almost overly professional in talking to one another as they discussed this or that form that needed to be looked at. Until one saw how the more commanding of the two seemed almost overly gentle in expression and handling of the smaller and lesser rank of the duo.

Those two had never crossed his cpu as being 'sweet on each other' as the humans said, the large gap in rank only a small reason for the not seeing it, but mostly the sheer polarity in personalities. Of course the smaller of the two didn't exactly have many matches to begin with by personality compatibility. It was interesting to see, but his optics soon started to track another odd couple. Even if the couple part was barely fitting of the two in question in terms of description.

It was so obvious that he wondered how he missed the blatant way the other would watch the medic, and seemed to find all manners of excuse to be in the medbay. Yet, the medic seemed to never see it, or was so set in denying it to be astounding. The way they danced around the issue, seeming to never meet and match tempo; though not for the lack of trying with the watcher. No, the medic seemed determined to not take what was being offered and hurting both himself and the one stubbornly refusing to quit.

It was really amazing what you can find out when everyone is too busy healing to put up their masks again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Universe: **Filling the Ranks (G1)

**Rating:** K+

**Notes:** Despite the glitching Red Alert seemed to follow Starscream far too easily in canon...

* * *

He had to run, get away before they caught him, took him apart like he know deep down they wanted to. _No, no they're…allies?_ They were all going to get him can't trust them not even _P_r_o_w_l_ He's not the same _He'll understand_ no not now. Different run that symbol it's safe. _No, not safe not that one._

"Poor little hacker, they did such a number on you didn't they."

"Star…scream?"

"Oh ho so the autoidiots didn't reformat you completely. Come now Red, why don't you come back with me now. We'll fix you again and then we can get Prowl back, yes?"

Fix, yes fix. It hurt, files not processing. Never able to access that part; forbidden, but in his own processor, why? _Why, that doesn't make sense. I'm an autobot…_ He knew this one with sharp edge smile, this flier not as enemy…no.

"Commander?"

The sharp edge smile actually getting bigger and pleased. That's a good thing, he was hard to please. That's why they always did their best him and Prowl. Perfectionist as their commander was it made them try harder, because it was **fun** to find new ways to destroy bases, riddle their security systems with all manners of hacks and viruses and never having to worry, because Prowl always ripped apart those that tried to stop him. Prowl was always good at deactivating autobots in quick and efficient manners. They were the best at what they did, for being ground pounders. It made the challenge more interesting being under the orders of Air Commander, because his approval was gained with more effort because of it.

"Yes, come now we need to fix and change of few things. Then we'll come back for the other one that strayed away. You ground pounders are bothersome at times, but you'll do once things are put back."


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** Challenge

**Universe:** G1

**Rating:** K+

**Notes:** what is with me and odd kinda, but not really pairings?

* * *

They were oddly beautiful in their movements. Not like those on the field or even in normal moving; no, no he found them fascinating when their chassis were completely still. It was their cpus that he marveled at. Each attempted hack easily deflected by a new firewall procedure, a virus summoned and modified to get past the antivirus protocols, the sheer amount of code processing happening in rapid fire sequence as they fought one another on a battlefield few on either side could acknowledge and appreciate.

It was a fierce battle on Cybertron, both more then likely wired and attached to various pieces of equipment to speed up the process as they attempted to take one another down while protecting themselves as well. Building and rebuilding, destroying and deleting, finding and hiding information packets, and all of it happening in less time one normally consumes their ration of Energon. The quickness of the attacks leaving one breathless if they attempted to watch, but going unnoticed by the majority as both combatants seemed reluctant to tell about these skirmishes if it was not a clearly won battle by one side. For most of these meetings were deadlocked, neither side able to gain much but superficial data. Enough to please their respective commanders, but never anything that would truly tip the war in the favor either faction.

Then the Ark mission happened, leaving one part of the battling pair on the surface of Cybertron to harass Shockwave, and the other to earth and making due with piecing Cybertronian technology with that of the organics upon the planet and what could be gained from the cassetteicons' missions. Until contact with Cybertron had been acquired after all that time, and new soldiers were shuttled down to bolster the numbers of each side. Tentative attempts began to happen, picking up in earnest once everything had settled down from the Negavator incident. Their battle waging once again becoming more and more intricate and elaborate as the cassetteicons were added into the equation more. Almost becoming a game of a brutal and war altering one if either side slipped up just enough.

For now it was a challenge and liberation from the rest of the war and the pitfalls it brought, if the brightness of optics and faint smile of accomplishment he noticed Red Alert's faceplate a time or two after a particularly complicated assault happened. That didn't dampen but heightened a little when both had the rare opportunity to be on the battlefield at the same time. Soundwave managing to watch the security director, even as he fought against Blaster and something no one else could see passing in a brief moment as blue optics locked with red optical band.

Prowl often wondered if having to meet one another in such closeness as the security networking system over and over for such a long span of the war, if they had developed a private channel between one another. Though tactically it wasn't such a bad thing as, so far neither could out predict the other based on this as well.


	11. Chapter 11

**Title:** New Cassette

**Universe:** Reformatted (G1)

**Rating:** K+/T

* * *

He had never seen a mech in so many pieces before and still have their spark slowly beating in its chamber. That much pain and sheer amount of injuries should have offlined him by now, it made him almost decide to end it for him.

_This mission is very sensitive information wise, the scrambling programs and various fail safe locks upon the objective far outstripping most of those even in Special Operations. Thus why we have no choice but to send you two in as well, the Spec. Ops will be your shield and extra eyes. You two just worry about obtaining the objective._

He didn't know when he had placed his servos over that spark casing, as if to finish crushing it and thus ending the erratic beats of the spark within, or what made him stop before doing so. His fingers suddenly scraping and grasping along his own chest compartment, looking for something that a part of his mind balked at the idea of it. The small fragile looking thing held now in one hand as he downloaded what was left of cpu into it, before opening its chest compartment and coaxing the fading spark from the broken one into it. Vents stopping and skipping a few times as he waited for it to catch. Small supernova causing him to relax his tense frame enough to gather everything he would need before leaving the now graying shell behind.

_Nah, both of ya better make it back. Wouldn' beh the same without yah._

He found out they had almost placed them as Deactivated while on duty, many of the higher ups having given up hope they were just missing. Believing the Decepticons had taken them out. He just gave a shaky grin as they were hustled into medbay, waiting with fear as Ratchet scanned over the other remarking about how self repair manage to get most of the damage outside of some CPU corruption. The sagging of frame in relief easily waved off by all as relief for the other and not for the fact he had just gotten away with 'replacing' the other. Even as the other half of that one's spark pulsed faintly in time with his. The little cassette in stasis.

_You knew there would be some problems when you did this, I know you were trying to help me…but this proves it can't remain as it is. My spark can't survive on its own anymore, even if you gave me the other half. It's not fair to everyone who needs a Security Director that can function and not end up fritzing at the slightest bit of damage like I just did._

Part of him expected that he gave in so easily to the pleading because despite everything this mech was one of his cassettes, even if not by original sparking. The half of spark residing in that little cassette know one else knew about, besides they and the other cassettes, had been nurtured and kept safe by his spark for vorns now. The time in stasis only making the link deeper; so he knew, deep down that no matter what he said or did that this outcome was going to come eventually. As the replacement mech body began to break down more and more from only having half a spark, and a damaged spark at that, to keep it going. He just never expected it to go so easy to make the mech disappear and the cassette to be born, as the humans said.

"_I'm sorry Inferno, I thought he was with me. I didn't think he was going to run out like that."_

"_It's not ya fault Blaster. Even Ah could never tell when he would fritz."_

It was easy to control the now sparkless body and send it careening towards Blitzwing, having to control his brood of cassettes when the need arise giving him practice, especially as he was used to fighting their personalities and minds when he did on those occasions. Already knowing that the violent fritzing the 'mech' had done would be placed on the glitch and by the time the cassette merged the two halves of its spark back together and woke up, enough time would have passed for both incidents to not be related to anyone onboard.

"_Oh hey Blaster, when did you get a new cassette?"_

"_I just finished working on him. His names Alarm…he was going to help Red Alert out in Security, but…"_

"_I'm certain Red would have appreciated the offer, and Prowl will probably be happy if you don't mind having Alarm still help out in there, until we get a new security director."_

"_Yeah, I think Alarm will like that. I'll ask him when he wakes up again. I forgot how much newly sparked cassettes can sleep."_


	12. Chapter 12

**Title:** Family of a different kind

**Rating:** K+

**Universe:**Gestalt Programing (G1)

* * *

There was one big downfall to having even one of your creators as part of gestalt team. That fault being that you automatically became the adopted creation of the _entire_ gestalt team. This then trickled to the other creations from that team, though normally that was a bonus since you had allies in trying to keep from having the entire team bearing down on you when you were in trouble. Then again, if asked about not having such a large family had ever crossed his cpu he would balk and not even contemplate it. Having to jostle for space in an overcrowded house where personal boundaries were pretty much nonexistent, and there was no such thing as secrets from co-creations; even if said co-creations were only such due to being creations of one of the gestalt members and not his creator specifically.

Though Ratchet sometimes got the feeling his creator and adoptive creators were a bit let down when he and the rest of his 'brothers' had decided to not complete the gestalt programming and become a proper gestalt team. Even if the war made their creators see it was a bad idea to do so with way both factions kept pushing for gestalts and fliers for their ranks. Making their choice the safest one since they could separate for long periods of time without repercussions; unlike their creators who had been a gestalt too long to separate to hide the fact they were a gestalt. It was probably one of the reasons they had been deactivated early on in the war, since even as a unit that combined didn't mean they were war capable. Causing the small brood of adult creations to act like timid younglings again and cling to Ratchet as their de facto leader, as he was the eldest of the surviving members of the family. Something he didn't complain about too often and welcomed most of the time.

Most of the time being not when two of his brothers were leaning heavily on his cpu in curiosity and barely held in check suspicion, while the third floating between him and the other two in amused exasperation as Ratchet looked over his current patient. This wouldn't have been so much of a bother, as he had vorns of practice in ignoring them as a presence in his mind. It was the rather 'loud' argument happening as he was running a more in depth diagnostic scan that made him start to feel twitchy, and vow to keep pain receptors on when any of them came through medbay next. Especially when his twitchiness was noticed by the mech sitting on his medical berth and began to eye him oddly, until he took his readings to his office and quickly chewed all three out while the data compiled and he was left in peace from the argument that had been going on for a decacycle now. Of course Ratchet, would bet his stash of high grade that the arguing was just taken to the physical level and not the mental. Since his brothers were supposed to be going over some items and datapads that needed all of their input on.

So the rest of the routine exam went by with barely a murmur outside of the normal fluctuations of emotions from the three idiots he was in charge of and he manage to get rid of the mech in his medbay fairly easily. Reputations work wonders on keeping nosy mechs from lingering if they believed they were going to get medical tools thrown at their head.

"I don't like him."

"You don't like anyone."

"Well you don't like him either."

"Only because of _who_ he decided to make optics at."

"I am still not seeing how the new third in command is 'making optics' at me as both of you are insinuating."

"Only because you wouldn't know if a bot was flirting with you unless they pretty much told you point blank they wanted a round of interfacing with you."

"Even then he'd probably try and find the logic behind the statement and not take it at face value."

Ratchet just watched as the three came walking into Medbay barely giving the black and white saboteur enough time to clear the hallway. The small red and white mech glancing around furiously before perching on a medical berth in the corner that easily saw the entire room, while a black and white door winged model just shook his head at the blue and red door winged mech that was shaking his head with a look of exaggerated pity barely giving a hello to him if one wasn't privy to the mental connection being held. So to anyone that may have been watching the suddenness of the three stopping their argument and look towards the medic would have been perplexing. Along with the change of attitude as they then silently parted as if nothing had happen.

At least on the outside, but outsiders didn't need to know what they talked about as a family. And Primus help the new third in command if he did finally make Ratchet rethink keeping Red Alert and Smokescreen on short leashes when it came to his interest in Prowl.


	13. Chapter 13

**Title:** Separate but One  
**Fandom:** Transformers  
**Universe:** Axiomverse (Waffling on either a G1 AU or like a moviverse thing)  
**Rating:** K+  
**Characters/Pairings:** Original Transformers, unnamed canon characters  
**Warnings/Notes:** I don't even fragging know where this idea came from, I was just minding my own business and huddling into my blanket nest when the bunny came out of nowhere to hit me. This is such a weird idea  
**Summary:** We know how Metroplex has drones to interact with the others from the cartoon, but what if drones were not as they appeared? What if city sized transformers were not as we think of them and their drones were not really drones?

* * *

Axiom had been one of the better built of the city sized Cybertronians, seeming to not suffer under the same affliction that many of his size eventually fell to. Of course many who interacted with Axiom figured it was due to the fact the polite autobot had no desire to create drones like many of his brethrens had, and instead relied on connecting to a terminal and leaving a typed message to interact on a more personal level with the smaller bots. So it had come as a surprise to the junior medbot when he started to notice inconsistencies within the interactions he had with the city sized mech. Looking over the various conversations Pulse could see at least two different personalities that he interacted with on a daily basis, and he had a feeling from the way some described their interactions with Axiom that there were more then two floating around. So having marshaled his resolve and courage with a speech prepared about how Axiom was Axiom and these other personalities were not needed, that he instead was the one who was given a lecture that made him feel guilty and worried instead.

#Hello Pulse.#

-You have an idea of why I am here correct Axiom?-

#Of course, I was the one who allowed you access to past conversations we have had on the various consoles I am connected to.#

-Then you know that this personality creating is not a good sign Axiom, and may be causing your CPU undue stress that could lead to your deactivation.-

#Is it really a deactivation?#

-It has been documented that those of your frame type ultimately deactivate after they begin treating their created drones as sparked mechs.-

#Yet, the drones always 'outlive' the single entity. Which if you look at the statistics of such events may shed a bit more light on the compulsion, as you have labeled it, on creating these drones.#

#_Okay, now you're just stating to be an aft about this. Pulse, I'll explain it simply. Considering the size of one such as us and the relative size of most sparks and how those of our frame tend to all be matrix built, there's a bit of a secret concerning this. When 'Axiom' was sparked as a single entity 'Axiom' only became functional and survived due to the Matrix combining several sparks to the adequate level to online a frame as large as this. This means that after a time the merged sparks start to separate again and create their own personality. When this happens most of our frame kind start producing drones to place the separated sparks into, which makes it harder for the remaining main spark to keep the frame functioning. Thus after a time the remaining sparks that are still merge can not handle the stress of the frame and go out_.#

#**Which, as you can already deduce since you are a no slouch in the intellectual department, you can easily deduce why we as Axiom have not done such yet. We are separate yet one due to our nature, so we decided to find a way to keep the deactivation from happening until we have all split safely and can transferred into new shells. This is why we've allowed you to figure out our little secret. We would like to ask for your help in transferring us to independent models when we have all separated and settled.**#

-This is a lot to take in, for if what you say is correct-

#Which we are.#

-If you are correct, then everything we know medically about your frame type has been grossly mistreated. How has it not been noted in scans?-

#**Pulse…in the vorns you've been looking over us as Axiom, how many times have you ever had to go near our spark chamber? Let alone even noted the need to. Our size and this drone mania tends to blind many of you into recalling we are also sparked creations.**#

-I'm beginning to see this in my file recollections…May I inquire how many of you there are then?-

#At this current phase of scans and calculations we are five self aware with two newly split who have yet to become self aware. Thus by calculation within the next vorn we will be seven and thus at optimal chance for safe removal with a 97.453% chance of success with minimum glitches.#

#_We can give ya the access to the credits we've been collecting._#

#Most by your unorthodox and against regulation means.#

#**That can be used to get us frames, just basic ones is all we need as we can upgrade and modify on our own.**#

#**If you're willing to help us that is.**#

#Considering the sort of sensation this will make when he decides to turn around and use this as some sort of science project.#

-I have no intention of doing such, and will undertake a memory wipe of these events if need be. However the only thing I ask is for perhaps Designations for yourselves. I'm able to detect by the wording and such who is who, but as you want to be separate it would be prudent to start calling you such and not just Axiom.-

#_We'll have to get back to you on that…we've been hiding and using Axiom, that we never really thought of individual designations._#

-Well you do have a Vorn to figure it out before you are placed into your new chassis.-

#We then shall introduce ourselves properly at such a date, and will have no qualms in being called Axiom by you, as it would also be judicious for this practice to be kept until we are transferred in the event others begin to acquire curiosity of things.#

#**We do appreciate this and this conversation we'll be deleted and wiped from the server completely for yours and our safety until things calm down.**#

-Until then I suppose.-


	14. Chapter 14

**Title:** Choice

**Verse:** Divine Game (G1)

**Rating:** IDEK K? K+?

* * *

The humans had a pretty good idea on the two forces that are constantly clashing. Though really, the whole destruction of the known universe is a bit of a stretch. If the Great Unmaker wanted to do that, then what would be the point in the rest of the gig? No, mostly it's a game on a point system, and unless a tantrum was had by Primus or Primus and they decided to restart the universe again or something. The two times they did that wasn't fun I tell ya, screwed up our plans as well, and just when I was up over a certain Pit Spawn player.

Ah, but you're probably a little confused by all of this. Well, let me put it in a better perspective for you. You see there really are two gods, deities, powerful beings that like messing with the lesser beings, or whatever else you want to call them; and they have been for the most part content with keeping their influences balanced in the multiverse. Those of us on Cybertron call them Primus, who controls the light and pure order, and Unicron who controls the shadows and pure chaos. But, back about two or so…eons is the word organics use? Both decided they were not fine with just watching and sending a minion or two out and about to clean up a mess to restore the balance. So they decided to make a game involving a lot of strategy, behind the scene manipulating, and having their faithful middle mechs and femmes acting the opposite of their true faction.

That last part a bit confusing? It confused the slag out of us for a while as well. I mean, when did those of Primus do chaotic personalities and shady dealings while those of Unicron followed strict codes of order and were considered good examples to live by? But, that's how the terms were made and we did as told, after a bit it actually became liberating to not have to be completely of order and structure, and it's fun from time to time to do things that would have any devout followers of Primus have a fit if they ever knew.

Now don't give me that look, we didn't cause that whole war that's been going on for nine million solar cycles now. That was all of you mortally inclined types fault. Though, I have some cubes of very fine, and now truly rare, high grade from the Towers on two of my kind at least helping things along. They always seem to be butting heads and upstaging one another in terms of doing things without really actually putting effort into it.

Even, if I'm still waiting for a black and white spawn of the smelting pits to ante up on the bet from if the new Prime would be better then the old one.

So yeah, the reason I'm telling you all this? Well when you went and got deactivated you impressed a few key people. So we got the big guys upstairs to let you join the ranks if you want, or go back to your intended path. Though I do have to warn you that if you do stick with the game and go with Primus you have a good chance of going Decepticon and if you go Unicron there's a nice chance of going Autobot. You know, because of that whole opposite acting thing going on to keep the mortally bound confused and unsuspecting. Now it's not a guarantee, since I got shifted to Autobot even though I work with Primus. It's just very likely is all, considering it's a lot more of a challenge to corrupt Autobots for Unicron, and redeem Decepticons for Primus.

So what's it going to be? Primus or Unicron?


	15. Chapter 15

**Title:**Conversation  
**Fandom:** Transformers  
**Universe:** ???  
**Rating:** K  
**Characters/Pairings:** ???  
**Warnings:** So this is what I come up with when ill and accidentally giving myself quasi heart attacks.  
**Summary:** Beginning Encrypted transmission...

* * *

[You've failed in your original objective.]

[ I did everything as I was ordered to do. Short of announcing key information neither of us are willing to expound upon at present. The possibility of such a failure should be nearly nonexistent by this point.]

[The faction you've aligned yourself to is filled with sentimental fools.]

[Or perhaps they are just confusing their sentimental cause and reasoning for actual and sincere feelings?]

[Either way your position is becoming compromised, it is becoming exceedingly clear that your persona may need to encounter an unfortunate accident.]

[Is this a direct order?]

[Affirmative.]

[I shall begin the arrangements then…] […Have I've disappointed you creator?]

[Explain this sudden inquiry.]

[I was not meant to have any personal connections amongst those here on the Ark, that way in the event of being called back to your side it would not be noticed outside of a professional standpoint. I've failed this objective as you have said, has my failure disappointed you?]

[No. The objective's failure was in a miscalculation neither of us had much faith in being a problem. Your unknowing ties will easily sever and neatly be cauterized within the time it will take to set you into a small task force that is being delivered to us from Cybertron.]

[Understood. May the Decepticon Cause be victorious.]

[ And may its reign last for time to come.]


	16. Chapter 16

**Title:** Informant  
**Universe:** Undercover  
**Rating:** K  
**Characters/Pairings:** Ratchet, Prowl, mentions of Smokescreen, Trailbreaker, Hound, Sideswipe, and Red Alert  
**Warnings:** Unbeta'd, random, and typed one handed so probably typo'd like crazy. (Damn cast)  
**Summary:** There was a datapad

* * *

There was a very innocent looking datapad sitting on the middle most table in the rec room. The only thing truly different about it from the myriad of other datapads that tended to colonize the desks of the various higher ranking mechs in the facility, was the fact it was of an odd white color instead of the standard black or blue. However it managed to cause various reactions from the group of mechs entering during shift change, despite its innocent appearance in lying serenely upon the table. To most it was at first ignored or looked at in curiosity, until Smokescreen snatched it up with a slightly maniacal grin while Trailbreaker and Hound peered over his shoulders to read the datapad. The three thus suddenly leaving the room once done and setting the pad back down, much to the confusion of many in the rec room at that time, until Beachcomber entered and noted it alongside Ratchet. The medic taking one look and snickering a bit, causing the rest to look at him for answers.

"None of you have ever had dealings with the Informant I see."

"What's that suppose to mean Hatchet?"

Ratchet only glared at the cheeky grin from Sideswipe and ignored the nickname due to the now overly curious group staring at him.

"Apparently there's a mech that seems to take the challenge of getting under the plating of both Red Alert and Prowl by finding out and 'informing' the base at large about every contraband raid or surprises that the two may have been concocting to catch miscreants in the act of rule breaking. No one really knows who or how many mechs are actually part of this, but it's a sort of legend in some of the older bases over the way Informant manages to find such out when most other mechs who've tried and failed to do so with those two…"

The medic didn't even attempt to finish his train of thought when as one the group moved towards the datapad to read. Leaving Ratchet to grab the cube of energon he had come to get and head back to medbay and the patient that had only remained as order due to medical rank pulling. The silence in the medbay lasted for almost half an hour before Ratchet threw a look at the patient that had stubbornly gone back to working on datapads instead of actually resting. Though, considering the black and white Datsun model and his normal habits, this was an improvement at least.

"So what the slag made you and Red Alert decide to start that game up again?"

Blue optics calmly surveyed the medic before returning to the words on the datapad and an answer given.

"It's a skill that could prove invaluable at any time provided it is kept sharp and honed…There's already been initial planning to retrieve several of our deep cover agents, and the initial contention that we can't afford to lose that information gathering route completely."

"Is that why I've been gaining extra parts that could reformat a mech of a certain security director's size, and some modification parts and extra armor a certain Decepticon that went MIA was known to have?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"Slag it Prowl, how are you two going to play loyal Decepticons and still be officers here?"

"Hence why it has not been put into affect yet. Until a viable option outside of a faked deactivation or similar outcome can be found; for now the reappearance of Informant to 'thwart' mine and Red Alert's attempts to keep all inline upon the Ark will be nothing more then another exercise for us and a diversion for the rest of the crew."

Ratchet would never truly understand double agents and their ilk, ever.


	17. Chapter 17

**Title:** Deep Cover

**Universe: **Bayverse (AU)

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** They had agreed to the charade centuries ago, they just never expected to have to think about it while stuck on a little blue planet with allies that believe them to be enemies. It was a convincing charade as well, as the energon on their hands could attest to, making it that much more of resignation they would never be Autobots again.

* * *

Being sent deep undercover barely a century after the Allspark had been sent off into space had not seemed that hard of a challenge to them at the time. Granted it wasn't much to bury in deep after frame modifications and enough energy manipulation to render their old spark signatures obsolete even to the most deep medical scan. Their memories tampered with to the point they would compress and seemingly delete if anyone were to try and hack them, then slowly rebuild over time to remind them they were not truly Decepticons, but Autobots that were under cover.

Even when transmissions stopped coming and the very few mechs that knew the truth swiftly dwindled as the war went on they still managed to keep their goal and subterfuge going. Knowing they weren't exactly ever going to be accepted back by their own side when all was said and done; after all they've done to be convincing and when they were suffering from the Blank Stage as memory files reemerged and repaired themselves. They were certain that they could live and deal with this, none of them really expecting to 'rise from the dead' as the organics on this strange blue planet would say, and take back their old lives. They've been in too deep to be the mechs they were before. So they were resigned and agreeable that if they survived the war then they would have to just hope someone would take pity on them and let them 'redeem' themselves as 'cons willing to work for a truce.

Because they were certain in time the Autobots would win, somehow. Or they would die trying to make that a reality.

The sudden realization that they may not be as easily ready to accept their fate at the end of the war came when the blue planet became the main battle ground for this war. The Allspark being found and destroyed, taking Megatron with it and caused by the actions of one small organic that was still not even fully matured. The revival of Megatron and the Fallen and the battle in Egypt only making it even more of a drifting gap in front of them. After all Barricade wouldn't be able to 'not be able to respond' at the next major battle that would happen when Megatron and Starscream reappeared to take revenge against Optimus Prime and the human boy Sam Witwicky. For after that confrontation it was a given that the little team of Autobots and NEST would take to shoot first ask questions later if they were to attempt approaching even under terms of surrender.

Not like they were planning on that, the war was still going on and they had to somehow keep up the act of evil Decepticons that would very much like to kill the squishies and enjoy it; while snitching parts and weapons from the stashes and stockpiles the Decepticons were creating in this solar system in preparation to attempt taking on the Prime again one day, and sending those goods to the last unit that had anyone who had a high enough classification in intel to know who the frag they were and that the goods were not altered to be deadly to the Autobots that would use them.

Runamock figured the sudden feeling that they were ialone/i well and truly came about during Mission City when Barricade had been ordered to attempt circling around and cutting off the escape route. With Megatron awake and angry the police cruiser had no choice but to obey even as over the common channel, that for some reason both sides still kept intact despite the bitterness of the war, the last moments of the silver mech known as Jazz was heard. Even as Runabout had to be carted off planet after a particularly viscous encounter with the newly arrived Sideswipe and thus Runamock had to leave the silent Barricade to make certain his twin wouldn't end up not being brought out of stasis lock because the acting 'con medic was being spiteful. The three then meeting planet side afterwards and just trying to make sense of the entire confusing mess that was the Egypt incident, while waiting to see if the looming satellite hacking bastard would notice them not attempting to join that particular mess and if he would do anything about it.

So instead they roamed some off beaten road for a place that would work as a stockpile location and safe house, while still being in striking distance of the annoyance known as NEST. Terrorizing a few locals that got too curious and bold when noting the gleaming high powered sports cars and the dark cruiser with Nevada plates in some dark alley or abandon parking lot, as they were not supposed to draw attention while their 'Great and Powerful' Leader had fled off planet to nurse the wounds from his thrashing by his revived brother.

They were resigned to being just another set of 'cons once they did push away the unbidden want to throw the charade away. Even as the twins were captured snarling and fighting and interrogated half a year after the Egypt incident. Too busy attempting escape to notice the sharp look from the lime green mech, even as they managed to get past when Runamock showed uncanny knowledge on Sideswipe's habits and fighting style to knock the silver corvette out and ensuring their escape. The Demolition Twins forgetting that Ratchet was well acquainted with the fact only one other person was able to best Sideswipe like that. But even if they did take note they could only bank their hope that the fact Sunstreaker was 'deactivated' and the spark bond of twins had been violently severed after an ambush by the Constructicons would throw Ratchet off any suspicions.

After all, Runabout and Runamock were twins on every level, and considering how much effort Sunstreaker and Red Alert had done to get into head butting contests and screaming matches to prove to all and sundry they would gladly deactivate each other then bind their sparks to the other, it wouldn't even be a possibility in any sane mechs mind. Prowl's computation of this was a solid 99.856 percent when Sunstreaker had sent Red Alert to Medbay and thus sent to the brig by Prowl hours before they were all destroyed when the base was blown apart by an eight megaton nuclear bomb.

Runabout reminded himself to someday get Runamock to tell him what made him agree to leave his twin for this mission. Once he managed to lose that fragging persistent yellow camaro that would not stop following him, and Primus help him when he finally just went frag it all and smacked Bumblebee onto his aft just for his own dignity.


	18. Chapter 18

**Title: **Thoughts of a Spy

**Rating: **K+

**Universe:** G1

**Summary: **Sometimes the ones you least expect to betray you are the ones that will.

* * *

It was almost laughable at how trusting and blind to him they all were. Never once stopping and thinking about his actions, and just labeling it as typical Red Alert paranoia. Every time he changed the codes, or had a corridor blocked off, was just seen as an aggravation and never as a threat to them. Even the officers not once wondering or even worrying over such actions he took as he tested just how much he could twist and change things within the very coding of the Ark. As the Security Chief he had access to practically every level of the ship turned base and thus with Teletraan.

Even when the Negavator incident had him reverting to closer to his true colors when he had helped the Air Commander, they had just chalked it up to cross wires and damage from the debris falling on him. Some had looked at him suspiciously, but the only vocal one of such was another like him, though working for someone else. That was a tidbit of information that had taken quite a bit of finesse and patience to acquire. Shockwave's spies were the hardest ones to find and oust, or bargain with, but Cliffjumper had a competitive streak so it was easy to turn the thoughts of using him for a cover if his charade slipped into a mutual charade as the more they both accused others and each other of being Decepticon spies; the less the rest of the idiot autobots worried about such. Though he was certain Cliffjumper was still unaware of who he served in the political miasma that was the Decepticon ranks.

And wouldn't that be a little processor fritzing tidbit for these overly loyal idiots. That the Decepticons were not as united as they appeared, even with Starscream's little attempts to usurp Megatron. Soundwave was certain it was more of a bluster tactic, as he was certain the former scientist was actually more concerned about the threat of Shockwave then of Megatron, and only openly defied their current leader to downplay any subversive tactics that were being used. Currently if Optimus Prime ever did finally defeat Megatron it would likely be Shockwave, and his chokehold on Cybertron that would amass the most followers in continuing the war. Even if the contingency of the femmes and mechs left on the planet were giving him problems at the moment. He was certain not even Megatron was wholly aware of the acts of his 'most loyal' officers and how they manipulated missions to fail that were widely known to be wholly Megatron's idea.

But idle code reading was not the point of what he had set out to do today. No, he was finally given the go ahead to escape the claustrophobic ranks of the soft sparked fools on this ship and away from this dismal ball of organic matter. If he was to infiltrate Shockwave or the autobot unit left on their homeworld he was uncertain at the moment. But, it would not be the first time he had been sent with little to no information and had to make do. He was quite good at interpreting the hidden meanings of such missions. It was why he got them.

Now, just how to go about defecting without having his fellow spy outing him at the first sign of trouble. A pity assassination was out.


	19. Chapter 19

**Title:** Waiting  
**Universe:** ???(I'll think of a name later when I'm not WTFing)  
**Rating:** K+  
**Characters/Pairings:** Unnamed bots, lots of them, and two surprise named ones further in  
**WarningsNotes:** WT...IDEFK, apparently Re+Halo+Citizen Soldier=This. Anyone want to adopt or partially adopt this thing? I so don't need anymore WIPs of these complexity. (Why do none of my WIPs stay simple plot wise and thus won't end up more then likely taking twenty or more chapters to finish?), this is so a G1/IDW/Bayverse melting pot thing of an AU that I don't have the slightest clue on where it wants to go story wise.  
**Summary:** A history is needed before a story can begin, for it is the history that creates the beginning of the story.

* * *

I have been into being for more millions of years then can be contemplated even by the race in which created me. I have watched and I have recorded, contemplating and experiencing…and what I have gathered from my watching is the sickness known as War. From the moment this raced came into existence conflict was never far beyond, for the most part the race as a majority lived a relatively prosperous and peaceful existence with only a small percentage devoted to the art of warfare. First by another race in which decided to attempt enslaving this young race and was repelled back time and time again from such goals, to when space travel was fabricated and conflicts as we began to explore. Finding allies and enemies amongst the vast array of galaxies and universes that were just a slip space jump away.

We fought and compromises, made treaties and boundaries of space we were not allowed to enter, cycled between peaceful times of prosperity and the ravages of wars that depleted resources, before the fighting would end and we would rebuild. Sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse in our attitudes and thinking after such encounters.

And then we entered a time that was to be called the Golden Age, when scientific breakthroughs and better options of living were within our grasps. How much of that time was true and not a false shine to hide a slow decay not even I have the clearest of records to show. All that is known is that is when the true strength of this sickness showed itself amongst those that I watch and observe. For the Golden Age lasted for millions of years, the suppose true age of peace for no wars were at hand. The prosperous hiding within gilded cages to protect them from seeing the fate of those who were not as prosperous as they were. It created a line between the race that grew larger and larger. Grumbles and complaints escalating and quickly taken care of by those who were appointed to protect the little bubble that the wealthy hid in.

Until one became a rallying force for the disenchanted.

He was charismatic and exuded a dangerous air that drew the bitter and curious to him. He spoke of change and betterment for the race as a whole, while planting the seeds of species superiority even more deeply into the masses that came to him. Even as another side arose in this political and world changing movement to oppose him. The one who headed it at first crying out that change was not needed and exclaiming how this was the Golden Age for them all if one was only willing to work for it. Sparking a third, more moderate and quiet faction to form who was a mixture of both sides but who did not truly feel either side was completely right as they were proclaiming. This group watched and talked, fearing what will happen when a true impasse would be met.

And such an impasse was met that words soon became useless and violence became the deciding factor in this debate.

Its escalation had come swiftly and without warning to many, who caught unprepared were struck down in the crossfire of two immovable forces. This fire that spread like a fever soon took hold of all in some way and leapt from the planet to outlying colonies. Often times destroying another race who was not quick enough to act or chose to openly support a side and bring about swift retribution upon them and their loved ones. A civil war that would spare no one from its touch and stole the right of neutrality in the form of death or coercion; and thus the third group planned and decided on a course of action that whatever young race that would happen upon the ruins and artifacts of this war would never understand if they themselves had never faced such a choice.

The leader of this group, when he saw that peaceful ways would never work, and that neither side would give up until one or all of them were annihilated found only one true solution to save his race from extinction. This leader who had come into his power far too late to intervene and stop the escalation of this self imposed destruction gathered together, from both warring factions, those who would be able to set aside their differences for their very existence. Those who would one day be willing to rebuild and learn from what they had seen as their illusion of being right was stripped away when the war and its cause became nothing more then a meaningless act of death and destruction.

They were everything from pacifists who had hidden from the war, to warriors who were too tired of killing one another to want to continue such anymore. For the most part they were the intellectuals who had tried to save what they could of their culture as it was destroyed or modified to be used for death. Those who deep down knew that their little reign of supremacy amongst the stars was at an end, and would not be adverse to being nothing more then helpers and guardians for younger races who were reaching to see beyond their skies. Most were young, young enough to have never known a time when they were not trying to kill one another, and those who were of the age where they could say their days of youth and innocence ended with the war.

This mass was then divided into smaller, easier to move and hide groups, paired with one veteran who could recall the golden age, and a bright and young one who would be the more experienced one's second in command. Friends and loved ones were separated during these, and though the why was understood it did not make it any easier. As they were placed within small carriers that would move to the far edges of the universe, where this war had not yet touch and remain until it was time. All those onboard placed so deep into a stasis that to almost be considered to not be alive.

I remember watching one shuttle being prepared for such and seeing the leader of this group personally initiate the stasis program and bid them good luck. Many had clung to him in brief grief and farewell before he sent them under. Another like me, though younger also placed within and also given a personal goodbye by the one who tried to save us and our very race. Even as I wonder what it was my kin had asked before she was placed in hibernation. Xantium had always been curious since her creation and even as she was sent into the closes thing they could get to stasis she would never truly stop questioning the world.

I pondered this even as it was my group's term to sleep and awaken in a hopefully brighter future. The face of the one who had devised all of this grave and a bit sadden, even as it held hope. The last thing I saw before my hibernation took over and I went deep into the ship's systems, was that of the towering figure of our leader handing to the young one who would be the second a blue cube shaped object that had thought to have been lost since the start of the war, the shock upon that young one almost as great as the shock upon the slightly older veteran that would lead us when we awoke a matrix that had resided in our leader since he had come of age to bear it. Perhaps it was that which had given this idea to him and we would one day be a race whole again.

Awakening had been slow and disorienting; for it was clear that time had moved around us while we had rested in the dark or our own souls.

I was the first due to what I was, and I watched and surveyed as the message to be sent was awaited for. This allowed me time to search and compile what I had saved or our species, growing more aware in a way as I studied in the quiet of the ships data banks. Even as we crashed upon a primitive world still chaotic and evolving from the impact of life suddenly being upon it. We within the ship slowly being buried by this ever quickly shifting world or organic compounds and I was not bothered for I still waited for that sign. I began to record and follow the life on this world, a task made easier when the dominant species began to master technology in the form of communication. Gathering data and judging this young race to see if it would have the potential for what we were offering when we would awaken fully.

Once more I found that sickness, and watched again as war consumed this world again and again. Though I held onto my hope for despite the fever of war there were signs of peace and reconciliation as well. They were young and perhaps would temper in time to not follow the same mistakes that we had. War perhaps was something that would be imprinted into all life for eternity, but the path to self extinction could be circumvented.

I, as the A.I. Teletraan, have hope for this race of organic make up known as humans, and hope that those who also had scattered across the world on the eve of Cybertron's destruction, and that of those who waged war upon its surface, would also have been in luck as we on the Ark have been. I shall loyally wait for the message to awaken my companions and help this fragile and young race become better, and away from the path that we had taken. We are ready and we are waiting.


	20. Chapter 20

**Title:** Coexistence  
**Universe:** ?(Just another random thing free to a good home)  
**Rating:** K+  
**Characters/Pairings:** Wreckers, Hot Rod, mentions of Red Alert, and Perceptor  
**WarningsNotes:** Yeah I've given up in trying to figure out where these things come from and instead just going to leave them here with little bows around their neck and a free to a good home sign next to them.  
**Summary: **Shockwave had created something, and the Wreckers go to perhaps 'borrow' these new toys. Until things got complicated.**  
**

**

* * *

**

The ships themselves were oddly enough pleasing in an aesthetic way, despite the fact that all of their intel pointed to the ships being made as the best war cruisers either side had ever seen. Considering they were created by Shockwave and as to be flag ships for the Decepticon forces that really made the beauty of them even more at odds. Almost looking more like something a High Tower mech might commission for an intergalactic cruise. Until the slight indentations and grooves of weapon ports were picked out from the other cosmetic lines and glyphs that ran across the silent ships. Dormant for now, but already many of the lines translated by one of the other teams as shielding and speed modifiers. The sleeping nanotech in those glyph brands familiar to many on the front line for they in smaller proportions were softly glowing upon their own armor as well.

The aspect of this entire mission that had Springer on edge however was the lack of challenge for his crew to get here. That had been the entire point of Prime sending the Wreckers to either sabotage or steal the vessels, for this was not supposed to be like the laughable easy missions of entering certain Decepticon bases. Yet they had managed to make it within throwing distance of the four gleaming ships without even seeing a guard. Topspin having made a comment that maybe the ships were nothing more then empty husks and the 'cons were hoping they would send a small army to commandeer the ships, not send a group like the Wreckers to do so.

The main problem of the mission was soon found right after when none of the slagging ships apparently had doors to get into the things with. They had given up in prying into the largest of the ships, with it's Decepticon appropriate name of Nemesis, and had instead moved on to the three smaller ships that were a bit behind and flanking the larger ship. Approaching the smallest of the group and a decision to just blow the entire shipyard to the pits if these ones were also missing an entrance was just about when Springer started to have a slight mistrust of the entire mission. For the ship had also at first sweep seemed to lack any way in, even when one attempted forcing the weapon ports open and found only failure. Trying a second and slower sweep had Springer knocking the hull with a fist and suddenly watching as the smooth silver of the ship rippled a bit and moved to form an entranceway.

Most autobots would have promptly radioed this in and have sent a small drone in first in case of a trap, but that was not the way the Wreckers worked. They did radio a small encrypted message to their relay point on their progress and half of them soon were scrambling inside the ship. All of them prepped and ready for a fire fight to happen at any moment. The confusion and feeling something was distinctly not right at all with this entire situation growing the further into the ship they went. As doors and lights flickered on ahead of them in a leading manner, while any side routes or rooms were firmly locked or smoothed over as the exterior hatch had been.

So it was of course not that hard to understand when Sandstorm had nearly taken the head off the mech that popped up from out of nowhere.

* * *

Hot Rod had found himself suddenly out of recharge for what appeared to be for no reason. Until the sudden ping from Red Alert in the Valiant made him turn the external cameras on for the Reliance just to see what had him close to fritzing. Seeing a bunch of unknown mechs trying to get into the Nemesis, which was thankfully still dark since Blitzwing could recharge through anything, before moving on to look at the rest of them and making Red Alert even more upset. Not like the strangers could really do anything to them short of dropping anything in the 150 megaton range directly on top of them, but without a pilot they also couldn't do anything to help or hinder these people…outside of opening their exterior hatch and having them come in and find out why they were here.

It was a stupid idea as both Red Alert and the now awake and watching the proceedings Perceptor were both telling him on the encoded data track they had being the support and shield ships for Blitzwing. Yet it didn't stop him from relaxing a bit of his programming that kept his external hull from being breached by most conventional means. He really was only going to do so and seal the hatch as soon as they were all in, really. Until a codex that had remained inactive in his deep core programming flickered into life with a giddy feeling.

Well, slag it all one of these intruders was his pilot. And an enemy at that as one of his cameras caught the details of the faction symbol on the group just before his hard light hologram flickered on.

Shockwave was probably going to have a fit when he found out one of his projects was now the property of an Autobot.


End file.
